Who Said Blonde's Had All The Fun?
by HazelBook
Summary: Loki's done something, something he's ashamed of and Tony wants to know now! Tony/Loki flirting and innocent fun. Not really in the Avenger Universe. My first attempt at a one-shot. Title gives a lot away...


Tony knocked on the bathroom door softly, not waiting for a reply before calling out. "Loki…?"

"Go away!" Loki had successfully locked himself in the Avenger's bathroom for the last week. All the other Avengers had tried to convince the frost giant to leave the small windowless room, but each one had failed miserably, now it was Tony's turn. He rammed on the door, louder this time.

"Come on Lo! What could you have done that's _that _bad?" There was silence, he sighed loudly. "Come on, I'm sure we'll forgive you-"

"I haven't really…done anything to harm anyone…" Loki's voice was barely heard over the sound of water falling from the shower.

"Come out then-"

"NO Stark! It's embarrassing!"

"Well, whatever you've done to yourself I will find out sooner or later!" Tony marched away, a small amount of greed itching against his chest.

**Some Time Later...**

Loki checked his watch, the smaller plastic spike pointed to four, signalling his time to leave the confined space. His stomach was growling in protest, his skin was dry from the lack of water and his eyes were very heavy from the absence of sleep. He looked in the mirror, his double looking back with disturbed eyes at what he had done to himself. "I'm hideous." He muttered under his breath before unlocking the door and peering out.

They tower was dead; anyone who was awake was doing their personal business elsewhere, Loki was lucky this time. Silently the God of mischief slipped out of the doorway, crossing the floor with quick feet to the kitchen.

He raided the shelves, clearing most of the food off the wooden slabs and began to eat. Being so small it took no less than a few mouthfuls of everything to fill his stomach. He didn't bother to clean the mess, knowing one of the avengers would do it the following day. Loki ran his hands down his clothed chest, tugging at the strings that drew his hood closer together. When suddenly,

"Blue isn't really your colour." Loki snarled, jumping around to face the sly one. He dropped his defence when he saw the dim arc reactor glowing through the darkness. His long fingers wrapped around his hooded head, covering most of his face away from Stark, hopefully making it less obvious in his attempts to hide his mistake.

"Go away Stark, I'm warning you only once."

"You haven't made a decent threat to me in a while…what happened to you?"

"Nothing happened to me Anthony, now if you please, just leave me be." Tony nodded, looking as if to turn.

"Oh, by the way…" Loki sighed dramatically, looking away from the man as he came into the room. "I had a look in the bathroom while you were eating…" Loki stepped around the island, his eyes slits in anger and his fists balled. Stark held his hands out innocently. "Hey, stop making it such a drama, so you wanted to be blonde, what's the problem with that?" _Everything_, Loki thought. He actually made an attempt to be like Thor, he had always been jealous of his blonde hair, even though he would never admit it to anyone; he would have given anything for hair like Thor's…

"Anthony-"Loki shook his head, unable to find good reason in what he was about to do. "I-it didn't exactly…go as planned." Tony raised an eyebrow. "Well, my hair's…black. And when I dyed it I didn't consider the colour…change." He swallowed loudly, circling the fabric of his hood with his fingers. "Please don't laugh at me." Loki sounded broken, his voice crippling with fear or anger, Tony couldn't decide. He didn't wait for an answer as he pulled off the oversized blue hoodie. His pale chest was the first thing to break through followed by his long and sharp shoulders. Loki remained in the shadows, biting his fingernails nervously as his face became hidden in the night. As he made no effort to move, Tony reached for the lights, dreading the moment he flicked them on.

Loki's face was tired, dragging from the uncomfortable sleep on the bathroom floor. His eyes were washed of any mischief and his chin was lined with fine, dark copper fibres of a few days stubble. Before, his hair was black as night, straight and slick, yet now it was all bouncy and curly, flickered with copper and auburn across his skull in a soft mesh of hair fibres. He covered his face with his pale hands, ashamed of himself and even more ashamed to be seen by Stark in such a vulnerable state. Stark let out a dry laugh, Loki moved his hands down to speak, but still held his hands to his chest.

"You said you wouldn't laugh!"

"I'm not laughing _at _you…" Loki wasn't convinced; and instead of remaining bare to the shorter man, he shrugged on the large hoodie, leaning against the island for stability. Stark came closer, crossing his arms over his broad chest and gazing at Loki's hair. Tired of the silence, Loki went to pull up the navy hood, but a pair of hands prevented him doing so, locking behind his head and resting softly on his neck. Looking up, he caught eyes with Stark for a brief second. "Can I touch it?" He tilted his head, a smirk falling on his lips.

"You cannot!" Loki didn't fight back as Tony dragged his hands from his neck through his scalp. Tony's hard skin was scratching innocent lines across his hair and Loki couldn't hold back a soft purr and arch into the man's hold, he felt disgust when he heard the man chuckle.

"Well I can gladly say I have had the God of Mischief moan at my touch…" he pulled on his dyed roots, lifting Loki's head and brushing noses with God before release his hold ever so slightly, his fingers ghosting over the painted locks. "Or should I say the prince of Ginger's?" Loki laughed, sticking his tongue out ever so slightly. He smirked, lifting his foggy eyes to meet Stark.

"Get off me."

"I'm sorry all I heard there was get me off." Another harsh tug was gained to Loki's delicate scalp. He arched into the touch even more as Tony's hot breath trailed across Loki's jawline.

"Do you seriously get off on hair pulling?" Loki didn't reply, instead his head fell onto the smaller man's shoulder. Tony's thumbs rubbed into the softer sides of Loki's skull, sending shivers of pleasure down his spine. Without acknowledging it, his puckered his lips, kissing the mortal's shoulder, his face dug into his neck, nuzzling slightly into his flesh. "I'll take that as a yes then." He released the counter, the blood rushing back to his fingers as he pressed them against Tony's stomach, the warmth heating his cold and delicate hands. Tony yanked his hair, forcing Loki to meet his lips.

To Loki, he tasted of wealth and impurity, just the way he liked his man to taste. He dragged his silver tongue over Tony's closed lips, welcomed suddenly by another, pushing down against his and forcing itself into his agape 's fingers played into his roots, teasing the curled hair before pulling it hard and earning another soft purr to escape Loki's throat, giving him easy access to Loki's sweet taste.

It was a battle of dominance for a few moments before Loki dragged his arms from Tony's stomach, around his hips and ended up holding his upper back, his fingers sprawled across his shoulders and rubbing against the clothed flesh. Tony squirmed as Loki engulfed him, his smirk widening as he stood from the arched position, towering above the man before him. As he stood, the kiss broke, leaving both men gasping for air.

Tony ran his fingers through the copper hair once more, dragging the god down and placing a sloppy kiss on his strong jaw and smiling at him with lust filled eyes. He pulled back just enough to mutter. "See you tomorrow ginger biscuit." His trade mark smirk followed and released his fix on the hair. Loki's head was in agony, the sheer force of Tony's hand bruising his scalp of his damaged hair. He released Tony, allowing the man to grab his hand and kiss his knuckles before quickly slipping out of the kitchen and into the still of night.

He brought his hood up slowly, careful not to move any of the hair's in case they stung in distress. He allowed a few seconds to pass before he stroked his painful scalp, running his pale fingers over the lines where Tony had scratched his signature. When he brought his hands away, his fingertips were stained red with blood. He rolled his eyes, stretching his spine and yawning, the morning sun peeking through the blackened windows and burning his emerald eyes. He ran his bloody hand over his eyes, the sleep building as he walked out the room.

"Ginger biscuit…whatever next."


End file.
